Emotional Neglect: A Powerful Bond

I am currently reading stories of emotional neglect for a new book about how children maintain relationships with abusive parents. These books are incredibly moving. The stories of emotional neglect are stories of love and loss. They are stories of attachment and separation. They are stories of unrequited love. They are stories of yearning against improbable odds for a parent to awaken from the slumber of self-absorption to once again look upon the child with love and affection. The stories are dreams of longing that never end, not even with attainment of adulthood nor the death of the parent. The yearning knows no bounds in time or space. A stunning visual depiction of this yearning is found in the movie Artificial Intelligence, in which a mechanical boy, David, becomes psychologically bonded to his human mother when she chooses to activate his emotional life. In response, he adores her unconditionally, wanting only to look in her eyes and see her love for him reflected back at him. Halfway through the movie she casts him out of her heart and her home; he no longer meets her needs. Desperate for her acceptance he cries, “If you let me, I will be so real for you.” But she will not let him. Her heart has closed. After a dark and dangerous journey David ends up in a space ship stranded at the bottom of the ocean, where he remains for 2,000 years, pining away for his mother’s love. It is that innocent and desperate longing that is captured so poignantly in memoirs of emotional neglect.

At the end of the movie Artificial Intelligence, David is allowed one perfect day which he constructs out of his wishes and desires. In that day he fulfills his dream of a perfect mother-child reunion. He spends the day alone with his mother doing everyday things such as waking up, eating breakfast, getting washed, and getting dressed. In each act mother is delighted by her child. This perfect day for David is every child’s perfect day, to be the light of the parent’s heart, to have that parent shine her love upon the child, for the child to please the parent, and to experience himself as pleasing to that parent, to have a day of precious moments, within each one a pure distillation of parental love and acceptance.

It is the child’s yearning for parental love, especially from a parent who is emotionally unavailable that in part creates the vulnerability that allows children to be torn apart by their parent’s conflict. Children sometimes choose or are forced to choose between their parents and in many cases they choose the parent who is intermittently unavailable not the parent who has consistently shown their love for the child. It is the fear of abandonment by the unavailable parent that often drives parental alienation. Understanding this paradox is at the root of developing prevention and interventions for children of divorce who are caught between their parents.

That is a great question to which there is no easy or single answer. In my experience people come to that understanding in their own time when they are ready. That doesn't mean, however, that loving friends and family (and perhaps mental health professionals) cannot gently challenge and question someone's unhealthy and/or illogical beliefs. Ideally, the person doing the challenging will not appear to have a vested interest in the outcome other than the best interest of the person.

As a kid and as a teen I tried hard to be good enough for my mom. It didn't work. One day, when I was 16, I heard a conversation that I wasn't supposed to hear, she said: "I never wanted kids, especially not a girl.". And believe me that sentence came from the heart, like something she'd always wanted to say, but had never allowed herself to say. And since there was no way she knew I was there, I know she didn't just say it to hurt me intentionally. She just really meant it.

For some reason, that sentence freed me. At that moment, a light turned on: "It's not about how good or bad I am, there is nothing I can or cannot do, she doesn't want a girl, no matter who that girl is. No girl can ever be enough".

I didn't heal instantly, but I stopped wearing the burden of being the reason she wanted to kill herself, or scream, or break stuff, or hide in the basements for weeks without talking to anyone. My brother and dad, still thought it was me making her react, but I knew she was reacting to me being a girl, not to me, me.

I left home 1 year later. I visited a bit a first, and then less and less, until 1 day after driving 3 hours only to have her shot the door to my face because apparently I was a bit early, I decided I'd had enough and at 27 I just stopped all communications.

I have been free ever since. It's been over 10 years... It took time to leave completely because, I needed to know that I didn't just give up. I needed to know I had tried everything I could find in any book. Believe me, I tried a lot of different things! The only thing that did work for a time (2 visits and a half), was going to visit with other people. She could not be mean to me in front of 'strangers'. However, on the 3rd visit, she called me on it.

I'd say, even if you don't know what the little piece of missing information is in your case, read about any abusive situation, and you'll notice that it's not about you (the abused), it's about them (the abuser). It's always about them, what they expected, what they wanted or didn't want and how they couldn't/can't find a way to make peace with what was and what is. It's about how they fight it with all their soul. It's their fight, not yours...

I'm pretty sure my mother is still fighting it: "How could I disappear like that, blah blah". It doesn't matter, she'd fight if I were there, she's most likely fighting when I'm not there. At least, I no longer have to fight it with her.

I hope you find a way to make peace with what was and what is. There are great advantages to coming from such a hard environment. Once you have found your ground, your center, your peace, it takes a lot to get you off balance... and when you do get off balance, you know how to give yourself space to heal, because nothing is ever harder than healing from years of being innocent (ignorant), dependant and over powered.

Childhood neglect is a world wide issue, children who feel unloved in many different ways, expect more from their parents. Neglect is experienced when a parent is doing good but sometimes they even forget to fulfill the child's every desire. Neglect on children come in different forms such as physical, emotional, spiritual and mental. Children can suffer from depression, anxiety and feel worthless by the time they are adults from emotional neglect.

My first experience of emotional neglect was probably when my sister was born, and at an age before I went to school, I became aware that she was loved more than me. However, this was compensated by an extended family, and an awareness that as a boy I was given more freedom. I did not recognise this at the time, but I was allowed to play out later, and have more friends. However, there developed an intense rivalry between us and my jealousies were dealt with by physical blows, sharp telling off, whilst she appeared to me at least to be the one who had triggered my behaviour. She never got told off for inciting a fight, the expected norm for me was to control my feelings, whereas she was encouraged to express herself in any way she chose.

She showed a particular talent for Art, and this talent was encouraged throughout her childhood, through into adult life and even now in her sixties, despite the fact that she is hardly a successful professional life from it. On the other hand I was an ardent reader, ahead of her and my other siblings and remained so. In spite of this it was not my achievements that were recognised in the family home, it was always my sister, and her paintings and drawings that were constantly praised. I expressed a desire to play the violin, on hearing me scratch away, my father broke the violin up and I was discouraged from playing any instrument again. This was not what happened to my sister, she was encouraged to play first an electric organ, bought for the house by my father who wanted to play it; and later given piano lessons. I was told to keep away from the piano, never to sing, and my musical tastes were not allowed in the house.
None of my siblings had to go out to work. But I had nulerous jobs by the time I was 14. I was even expected to spend my school holidays working for my fathers roofing and tiling company. This often meant I would either stand around building sites, bored and lonely, or carryinf rolls of felt, buckets of tar up ladders, dipping buckets into molten asphalt, or carrying sacks of grit up ladders. As a consequence I had limited time for company with my own age group throughout my youth, and was especially damaging in my early teenage years.
At school I was recognised for my writing, and poetry, but at home it was my sisters accomplishments that were nurtured. I had 3 sisters by this time. None of them knew my father at work - where he would yell at me to do something, treat me as one of his adult workers, and ignore me when we were alone by long silences. There is more to this, but I landed up looking for emotional support in the wrong places.